#ghostwritersnet

[theamoran-blog]

We often assume that monsters come in the shapes of men, as if men have a monopoly on murder.

monsters and men; 01 | t.m

[njmphadora]

her words were like honey: each sickly sweet syllable stuck to my skin. her lips were like morphine: one touch and my body went numb. she was a chemical madness, an intoxicating beauty, too sweet to resist but too deadly to succumb to; and with each kiss that we shared i felt myself falling further and further until there was none of me left, only glimmers and glimpses like stars in her endless sky.

you'll need a map to find me now

[vanillasweet]

“We won the war,” they say.

Harry isn’t inclined to agree. How can they say that when former Death Eaters are still being persecuted, when their children are being outcasted for something out of their control?

He sees Draco Malfoy’s child, Scorpius, sitting in the front of the class, keeping to himself, and feels his heart break. He hears the jibes that the other students, his own students, throws at the poor boy, and it makes him angry. A punishment is enough for the offenders, he thinks, because they’re still young. They have time to learn. The parents, he knows, are the ones who won’t change. He sees it in their eyes, the way a haunted expression washes over and clouds their judgment. It’s frustrating to see that all his efforts didn’t change anything at all.

“I didn’t fight a war for this,” he wants to scream, “I didn’t risk my life just for another group to be discriminated against.”

“Why didn’t you marry Ginny?” they ask.

Harry’s tired of people asking. Molly’s a lovely person, the mother figure that he never had, but she doesn’t understand. Marriage wasn’t the answer, not at the time. He would wake up in the middle of the night screaming in terror. He would flinch at the sight of a wand pointed at him, whether it is with good intentions or not, and would have to fight the urge to draw his own wand. His eyes would dart around a place, searching for exits, even if he knew it to be safe. For a time, his hand never strayed far from his holster, fingertips always in contact touch with the wand in case of an attack.

 Harry knew that he wasn’t stable, that he needed time, time alone, to heal his scars (if they ever did heal). Ginny wasn’t happy about that, not understanding his exact struggle, and thus they had to separate.

“I was broken,” he whispers softly, “I am broken. Can’t you see?”

“How can you forgive him?” they wonder.

Harry just does. Draco had apologized and offered to repay a Life-Debt, but Harry refuses. The past is in the past and there’s no use in dwelling on it. Draco had been young and he made all the wrong choices. Harry wasn’t going to fault him for doing what he thought was right. He’s just happy that Draco had changed, seeing the error in his ways.

It did, however, come as a surprise when Draco came to him after his classes had ended with flowers in hand. They had been talking more and more with Draco constantly checking up on Scorpius. It’s cute, Harry thinks, but he keeps that to himself.

“To apologize again?” Harry asks bemusedly. Draco hasn’t sent an apology gift in a while, but he couldn’t for the life of him think why Draco would get him flowers.

Draco shakes his head. “No.” His cheeks are dusted a light pink. “To ask you out on a date.”

“Everyone deserves a second chance,” he replies. “And to answer your question, how can I not?”

“You deserve better,” they patronize.

Harry’s response is quick and sweet.

“And, I got it.” He smirks and walks away to where Draco and Scorpius are waiting.

[tagetess]

dont let the red eyes scare you

       i  m     s t  i   l l     m  e

dont complain about my hollowness 

       l   e  t     m  e      b   e 

[rapunzhel]

i wish the words ‘i’m over him’ were all you had to say to make this aching beating pain in your chest go away. i wish life wasn’t filled with these shades of grey and just pretending to be okay. i wish friendships were harder to break and boys wouldn’t focus on taking but instead they would give. i wish all that had be to done to make the world spin was to say the word ‘okay’ but instead i just feel myself shake and stumble in. life isn’t made up of pretty pictures. instead all i see are lies and gritty details. then my breathing doesn’t work and the little words they make it worse.

i understand now why people compare heartbreak to a curse-b.g.s

[aliciavspinnet]

Who are people you ship Lee Jordan? What headcanons do you have for them?

lemme tell ya about how much i love Fred x Lee my sweet sweet anon:

- Lee met the twins on his first day at hogwarts. 

- at the Gryffindor table right after the sorting Fred and George come and sit on either side of lee and introduce themselves with identical grins and then start with the witty banter (and making fun of percy)

- Lee is sitting there laughing the whole time (and feeling really special that these two larger than life non-stop people have decided that he is gonna be their friend)

- on the first night at Hogwarts they are all super buzzed cause W o W there is a whole freaking castle to explore and because of that there must be a heck load of mischief to get up to

- in their first class they bust in late all three of them: Fred with an (apparently) apologetic grin, George with a terribly repressed smirk, and Lee with a crooked smile 

- (this is one of the only times they get away with it because ‘we are so sorry sir we got lost’ can actually be believable when it hasn’t been used every day of the week before) 

- within the week Lee can tell the twins apart (finally there was to be no more “haha we gotcha i’m actually Fred”) 

- basically their friendship keeps growing and growing as friendships do 

- then one day someone asks Lee how he’s so good at telling the twins apart and he stops and thinks for a second cause really he can’t quite put his finger on it

- he tries to explain the subtle differences in appearance to the person inquiring but he’s distracted by how they both ‘feel’ different 

- George was like squinted eyes of concentration,and bursts of laughter, and being always prepared to either hug you or kill someone for you 

- and Fred was (wow) Fred was just completely different he was fast and passionate talk (that would always make butterflies erupt in Lee’s stomach), and prideful ‘dare me to’ eyes (that always made Lee’s heart lurch), and utter faithfulness, the kind of person you would trust with your life (which Lee obviously would without hesitation) 

- and shit... was Lee in love with his best friend? (one of them anyway)

- then later that week in the common room Fred is sitting there staring at Lee’s hands (cause gosh they are gorgeous) and he decides it’s about time that he talks about this mega crush cause it’s eating him alive and cause it’s the Fred Weasley thing to dive head first into everything he says “hey Georgie, ever think you might have kind of a thing for Lee? cause ya know I’d relate.” 

- George doesn’t even look up from what he’s doing to respond: “mate, I don’t but I freaking know you do” completely chill about it (even though inside he is screaming ‘FINALLY’ and is super happy cause he knew all of last’s weeks talk about Lee’s love life and offering to find him a quality love interest had perhaps kicked Fred’s sorry ass into a realisation about his feelings) 

- at first Fred is all ‘why didn’t you say something?’ and then ‘wait.. George do you think he likes me back?’

- and George finally looks up, sighs the biggest sigh, and fixes Fred with the most deadpan, tired look and says “of freaking course he does and in fact i’m getting bloody sick of the two of you pretending like you’re not utterly head over heels for each other so please, brother dear, for the sake of my sanity - piss off and do something about it.” 

- Fred just stares for a moment at George, then summons his courage (cause if he’s gonna ask out Lee it’s gonna be smooth), and walks over to Lee who is trying to actually do his transfiguration homework (and because of that he has to be located a strategic few feet away from the twins) 

- Lee sees Fred coming out of the corner of his eye and his stomach erupts (as usual) and he thinks okay today I’m gonna tell him cause I’m damned sick of all of this. He properly looks up from his essay when Fred sits down on the couch beside him and is met with a pointed smirk from the red-head

-”hey Lee, do you think I’m cute?” and Lee is like well this is not what I was expecting (and of course I think you are cute are you crazy?), but frick how do I respond to this, and then he catches a glimpse at George doing frantic miming that seems to heavily involve a heart shape and kissy faces and Lee thinks what the hell (hoping George doesn’t think that it’s some kind of joke)

- “Actually Fred I’ve always thought of you as some one who was more... unbelievably sexy.” 

- Fred almost blows his smooth demeanor with a mixture of laughter and shock (and also sheer giddiness cause - Lee! thinks he’s... sexy!?) 

- “Wow… um, good, so since we got that cleared up, did you want to maybe go out on a date sometime?” 

- and of course Lee says yes 

- and of course they celebrate with a kiss (which seriously was worth the wait but also at the same time not at all because as Fred will often point out they had wasted a lot of time not-kissing when they were ‘just friends’) 

- and of course after they kiss Fred returns to his twin a little pink in the face with the widest grin and says “Guess what - Lee thinks I’m the better looking twin.”

(and I got fully carried away and could write another entire thing about how they are freaking adorable in a relationship but I shall stop (for now…))

[jelotinousblog]

i forget sometimes how much words can do. i forget sometimes that i am a stormcloud that my rain falls heavy onto your shoulders i forget that i am not light raindrops i am thunder crashing torrential sheets of water crashing down when my clouds are dark and i cannot contain their weight anymore i can only open my mouth to speak and when the words pour out landing heavier than i ever thought they would when like witnessing a car crash i watch them hit you when i can see the way they hit it you hits me like a punch to the gut my stomach sinks like a stone as you flinch and i know that it helps nothing for me to say that and i know that saying sorry isn't enough i know nothing is enough but this is all i can say   is that i am sorry is that sometimes i forget

j/l/l/t

[antgione-blog]

this divinity of mine is shattering. it’s blood-sucking and soul-searching,  a painful hell in exchange for a couple of kneeled bodies and 

whispered prayers. this divinity of mine is horrifying ------------ it leaves me empty and naked, a raw feeling like my

skin has been turned inside out. and my bones have been left to dry.

-------------- FALSE DIVINITY IS A HELLISH THING . | noel v.

[elevhens-archive-blog]

March BOTM!

hey all!

this is a revised version of my blog of the month for March! i’ll be doing these every month because I think they are fun and I get to look at all the amazing blogs that enter! just a few simple rules! please put what you wish to be considered for in the tags.

Rules:

must be following this fred weasley stan reblog this post (likes only count as bookmarks) must get 25 notes or we’ll just pretend it never happened (pls don’t let this flop) deadline to enter is February 28th at 11:59 Central Time.

Four categories to enter:

fred weasley award - best harry potter nymphadora tonks - best multifandom blog lois lane award - best writing athena award - best aesthetics

what i’m looking for:

active & friendly bloggers clean or organized tagging system

other information under the cut:

what you’ll get:

a spot in my updates tab for the entire month

up to five promos upon request

an aesthetic moodboard of your choice

my eternal love and awkward friendship

that’s it! send me any questions if you have any!

[ravkasqueen]

Appreciate the writers

Every time you read something, remember that it didn’t just appear there as it is out of nowhere and ready for you. Take the time to appreciate that someone out there has given their time to you and everyone else who smiled as they reached the final line. 

If a piece of work moves you in any way or if you feel something when reading what another has created then let the author know you did!

A few quick stats -

- As of 10.2.17 I have 15 imagines - Each imagine has approximately 2500 words - Some have way more, some have a lot less - It takes me approximately one hour to write 1000 words, depending on how I’m feeling - That amounts up to 37.5 hours of time that I have put into all of my creations, and this isn’t even including a few of the ‘would includes’ I did ages ago

37.5 hours. It’s almost a full day of my time that I have spent typing away at my computer and I know that for a lot of other writers that this total would be bigger because writing 1000 words an hour is above the average and everyone is different.

So, every time that you go to send a message on anonymous telling the author of whatever you requested to ‘hurry up’ - remember that this takes time.

Why should we writers continue to write anything if those who should be supporting us are tearing us down?

I write because I love to, I don’t do it for attention or likes or reblogs or anything else. However, I know that I, like many others, doubt my abilities when writing. This is why we ask that you let us know that you like what we did! We don’t want fame or glory we just want to be appreciated! 

Help writers by acknowledging that each of us is a human being with doubts, insecurities and actual lives we still need to live. Instead of rushing us, making us feel bad, telling us that you hated what we did - support us! 

It’s okay to dislike what we’ve written! It’s okay to feel annoyed that we’ve taken so long to write it! But, please - tell us why you didn’t like it and how we can make it better. Be patient with us and trust that we most likely want to write what you want us to, too. Understand that we’re not machines and that yelling at us or banging us against the table will not have the same effect as technology.

Support the writers you love. Help them to get better at writing by being honest but remembering to be kind. 

37.5 hours is a lot of time to have spent on people who do not care. 

[fruitopias]

i know she speaks to God. i have heard it in the floorboards, in birdsong, in the quiet humming of the telephone lines. she inks his words onto her skin so she doesn’t forget them: commandments and exaltations, whispers shaped like thunderclouds in June. this morning, he gave her the sky to wear in her hair, unraveled it slowly in long golden ribbons that wink across the room. these days, all my thoughts are prayers and all my melodies are hymns. i repeat them in my sleep, even the ones i’ve forgotten the words to. i have tried remembering. and i have watched the moon spin around her a dozen times, but i have spun around her a dozen times more. so that’s how i know she speaks to God, both gentle and righteously good. (i wish she still spoke to me too.)

PIECES || F. A.

[njmphadora]

i feel sorta empty, sorta lost almost like i’m on battery saving mode lights dimmed energy reserved like rocks in the ocean with each passing day i erode

i smile because i want to because it doesn’t feel real this misery is buried just a little too deep too deep to feel

life passing me by like i’m on a train looking out the window only colours and shapes flashing and whooshing no distinct objects, no memorable landmarks

each time i sigh it’s like i breath out a little of my soul soon i will be empty e m p t y i wanted so much more

[vanillasweet]

Sometimes, it’s the missing pieces that tells you you’re broken. Other times, it’s the small cracks that keep on multiplying until you shatter.

but how do i know? i can’t be fixed

[rapunzhel]

Artemis hunts. She searches caves and mountains and deserts and stars. Spending eons lost in the stars she flies, she falls, she glides. It’s peace and serenity and safety. Wonder. Love. People often look at her and wonder, where is her love? Her love doesn’t come from the arms of a man. Her love is in starlight. Her love is that first breath of relief. The tingling in her fingers as her arrows fly and fly. Her love is in the sparkle of the eyes of her girls. Girls and stars and women and dazzling light. Love and love and love and love.

the monsters known as men are her prey-b.g.s

[acediscowlng]

On a Fine Sunday Morning On a fine Sunday morning there is a varnished bamboo chair where a man, made by his years, is placed. Made by the steel in his blood and the electricity flowing through his skin. He sits with a spine curved so low it almost seems broken. And his sallow skin, draped over fragile bones, barely holding together the choked breaths that withhold his rasping voice and the eyes that have grown large and listless. A mouth that opens and closes, forming words that only he can understand as fingers made of bone and fragile steel grasp at the hard chair, grip broken and wavering. His feet, swollen to that of a giant’s, the color of the sea on a murky day, is light on the ground. It is cold. There is no life in his voice as he calls to a name that was not mine and to people who were no longer there.

/ / the chair is empty by monday morning. (source: pdfcct)

[jelotinousblog]

this afternoon i went outside and ran around in the heavy rain and it was exhilarating. it made me feel young again, like when i was a small child. as the sky's tears fell down and washed away my melancholy, they soaked my clothes and skin and they left me shivering, and cold but laughing so loud i was nearly screaming out my joy. this afternoon i went back into the lobby, drenched in rainwater, shaking my hair out like a dog, still laughing to throw myself down on a couch, sprawled out like clothes laid out to dry, to let my wet hair, wet clothes, wet jacket all slowly evaporate in the presence of my body's calm warmth and i realized that in this moment of my life, i am content.